Page 20 of The Ostler's Boy

M r. Evergreen and I passed into the barn moments after it had started to rain, but the downpour had caught us and it was enough to effectively soak through our clothes, even the sheath beneath my dress. I shivered, taking the swordsman’s hand and happily dismounting Tails to plant my shoes firmly into the hay. Without much of a pause, he vanished into the back and came out with a blanket that he draped around my shoulders.

“I’m so cold,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” he promised. He patted my face with the corner of the sheet, clearing the stream from my flattened braid, which he swept behind my ear.

We met eyes carefully. Cyrus took a step back and wrung the water from his shirt. I caught a glimpse of what was under it: his bare abdomen. It was very defined. He carried on, unaware of my violation, to unsaddle and pin our pair.

I searched for any resemblance of a word, but I was hyper-fixated on how warm his fingers had felt entwined with mine. How warm they had been against my cheek.

“I-Is this one of the horses’?” I asked finally, concerned about the wrap.

He replied without looking up. “It’s my own. I sleep here sometimes, remember?”

“...I hadn’t expected the weather to shift so quickly. What with how hot it’s been,” I rambled. “It’s been-”

“You don’t have to stay here,” he told me. “My apologies for having you gotten in that mess. I should have insisted we head back sooner.”

“It was just as much my fault,” I said.

He went on. “But you are free to go. I’ll finish up here, don’t worry.”

“Oh.” I pulled the fabric tighter around my back. “Well, it’s still raining,” I said. I noted the sound of thunder with my eyes.

They ran the length of his torso and then his hands as they worked to unclip a hook. He was attractive, too, and I wanted to repay the compliment, but I refrained.

“It’s not too far,” he said.

“I know.”

Cyrus glanced at the large open door, where rain splattered puddles at its foot. He watched it fall for a second and finally moved to close us in. It creaked as the wood rolled shut.

“If you prefer, I leave, I can go. You’ve just gotten me so wet, is all.”

His brow went up. “Did you mean to say it that way?” he asked.

“Yes, I meant to blame you for the rain,” I said. “You just declared it was your fault.”

“No, I–” Evergreen paused. “You…”

Nervously, I said, “I meant to say that I’m completely soaked.”

“Aye. Right. Aye. You, uh, you can wait here if you wish, I guess,” he said. “What do I care?”

“Are you…?” I felt unsure. “Are you angry with me again? I thought that we had resolved our tension with…with our secrets and the trust. If I’ve said something wrong, please, you must?—”

“No,” but he frowned. “No. You’ve said nothing wrong.”

There was a lull.

“Are you sure? It feels as though you are angry now,” I said. “Here. Let me help you.”

I stepped past him into the long corridor behind the stalls.

“Where are you going?” he asked. His hand found my waist, twisting me around and drawing me back to where I was. “Don’t wander.” He let go.

“I’m not wandering,” I said. “I’m going to help you with the horses. It’s weird just standing here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“No, but who knows when the storm will stop? I am perfectly skilled to assist you with whatever it is that you want from me.”

His face twisted, and he said, “The cots are that way,” to name his point.

“The cots?” I looked at the blanket. “As in, like, your cot, sir?”

“Aye. As in my cot. No place for a lady.”

“Oh,” I took a step. “Oh, no. I was, I was looking for the grooming kit!” I hurried. “I-I–”

“I’ll groom the horses when you go,” he said. Another silence came and went as he took a very deliberate breath and cracked his neck. “You don’t have to call me sir, either,” he stated.

“It’s common courtesy, sir.”

The door slid back, inviting the burst of sunshine and an old, shuffling man.

“Now, how did this come to be shut?” he chattered. He stopped, looking closer at the two of us. “Ack, sorry, my boy. I hadn’t known you had yourself a lass in here. I’ll come back.”

“Henry,” Cyrus said. He met him and helped him to secure the latch. “This is the Princess. Sam’s wife.”

“Wife, eh?” Henry asked. “Did I miss the Royal Wedding? How many hours was I gone? The road to town must be gettin’ longer. Or I older.” He snickered, bobbing his head and shuffling by. “Princess, Princess. How do you do? You’re taller than I was told you’d be.”

“I am well; thank you, sir. It’s… You heard I was short? Never mind. It’s lovely to meet you.” I curtsied, which only baffled him.

“Is she lame?” he asked the other.

“What?” I asked.

Cyrus waved the ostler off. “She just does that.”

Henry sighed, then gave me another once-over, turning to whisper to his companion.

“Yes,” Cyrus replied. “I noticed.”

I felt flustered suddenly.

“So what is it, girl?” Henry asked. “You don’t have ostlers back in yer palace? Who manages yer horses?” I opened my mouth but had no time to contribute, as he added, “I’d be willin’ to bet we workin’ hands are much the same anywhere you go. Oreia. Laurel. Chalke. No need to stare.”

“I’m not staring,” I said. “I just hadn’t expected you to be so…”

“Old?” he asked.

“Short, honestly,” I said.

Cyrus choked on a laugh. He stifled it as Henry caught him for it.

“I’m not short,” Henry muttered. “I’m old. Things shrink; your body bends with age. You’ll see.”

“I meant no offense,” I said. I shook my head. “It’s just that you mentioned my height, and I’ve spent all day next to Mr. Evergreen.”

He peered at the swordsman. “It ain’t my fault you lot are giant.”

I looked at Evergreen.

Cyrus slid the blanket from my shoulders and folded it to hand it to his partner. “Her Highness and I had a pleasant afternoon until the rain. That said, I’m sure she’s eager to find herself in warmer clothes. I thought to escort her back.”

Henry stroked Tails in his stall. “Go, go. You won’t be missed,” he said.

Cyrus softly ushered his palm to the small of my back and us to the door.

“Have fun, you two,” Henry said.

“Fun?” I asked. “Walking?”

“Yes, is that wh–”

“Aye. Indeed,” Cyrus nodded, hurrying to speak over whatever comment the ostler tried to offer. “Ma’am, if you’ll allow me the honor? We can discuss the details of tomorrow’s ride.”

“Tomorrow’s ride?” I asked.

“I assumed that worked for you. I’m free most days. I can do the day after as an option. I’ll trust you if you say you have prior arrangements, too.”

“How long does it take to break a horse, sir?” I asked.

“Ah! You’re breaking Isaac, are ya?” Henry chimed. “My wife, God rest her soul, and I broke our first horse together the same. There’s nothing like it to bri–”

Cyrus excused us into the yard. “Ignore him. He’s crazy.”

“Ignore him?” I asked. “What did he say?”

Henry was still talking, but Evergreen closed the door despite my effort to peer in.

“You did not need to be so rude,” I said. “That was my first time meeting Mr. Henry, sir.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied. “May it be the last.”

He moved us to the cobblestone toward the castle. Around us, the garden still clung to droplets of rain, but every maid, every footman, and every person we passed was very dry, and we were not. For it, we drew every single eye.

“I apologize for Henry,” Cyrus said. “He’s a meddler.”

“A meddler?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“If you say so. But what did he say?” I asked.

He shook his head as we came up to the gate. “Can you manage past this point?” He gestured to his clothes. “I’d like to change.”

“I’m sure no one will mind if we make a mess. I’m terribly wet myself.”

“Eeey,” he said, rolling his neck. “Don’t…” He looked around and hushed his words. “Don’t say things like that, Princess. It doesn’t— It isn't as innocent as you intend it to be. You’re actually inciting terrible thoughts every time you mention it.”

My cheeks lit, though I had no idea what it was he thought I was saying or why it wasn’t innocent .

“That I’m wet?” I asked. It was the only word I could isolate. He blinked obnoxiously, so I moved in. “Pray, what does wet mean to you, sir?”

Cyrus’s mouth pursed. “Nothing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do the afternoons work for you? Or would you rather we start sooner? Sameer picked this time, but we have clashing ideas of productivity.”

“You mean to say you want an earlier start?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve never been much of a morning bird, but if that’s what works for you,” I said.

“You don’t like mornings?” he asked.

“Not especially,” I said. “I’ve always hated them. However, you’re the only one of us with an actual meaning here in Chalke. And you seem to help Henry quite often. I can’t imagine this does not eat into your shift. So I can be available for you.”

“I help Henry because I’m bored, and because he’s old, and because he’s always been nice to me. My role, my meaning as you called it, is to ready His Highness for the swordsmanship events at the Games every year. As those have passed, it’ll be Autumn before I’m needed again. Beyond Wednesdays.”

“But you are friends,” I said. “You go places together; you went to town together. I’m sure you’ve got many plans for adventures still.“

“If you do not wish to continue riding with me, speak now or forever hold your peace.” His eyes were serious. “It will save us both time and my nerves, as I am not in the habit of forcing women to do things against their will. I’d hate to consider I was doing that every ride.”

To do things bewildered me, and I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to bring that thought into play.

I couldn’t resist revisiting the vulgarities the ladies had discussed—riding him— but I couldn’t think about anything but the way he’d adjusted my posture on the horse and his fingers in my hair.

“Um, I didn’t say that.” I smoothed my blouse. “I just don’t wish to be a burden to you, even by the Prince’s command. You may not be the ostler by title, but you seem to spend a decent amount of time working for or on his behalf. I know how long those hours can be, and I don’t wish to add to or interfere with them.”

Cyrus made a point to look at the sky as the sun relaxed into the hills and the evening hours moved into place. Shadows danced across his strict jaw as he turned back to me with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“I find it difficult to believe a princess knows anything about a hard day’s work. No, you have people to do these things for you; that’s why you prefer afternoons: because you have the luxury of sleeping in. Yes? So, please, don’t embarrass yourself and say shit just to say it,” he said.

Shocked, I stood there without a word to wield. His mouth parted, but no real apology arrived.

“Forgive my language,” he said.

“I-I’m speaking,” I muttered.

“Come again?” He cocked his head.

“I’m speaking. You said speak now or forever hold my peace.”

“What?”

“I do not wish to ride with you. Good night, Mr. Evergreen,” I said, retreating into the foyer. “I wish you well.”

He asked me to wait, but there was no power in the world to stop me from my flight. The moment I turned the corner, I ran.

“Cyrus Evergreen,” I muttered. “What a stupid name!”